


I'll Be Your Girl

by BlueInkAlchemist



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Unresolved Feelings, follow-up fic, no editing we die like the heroes we are, side fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 13:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15730164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueInkAlchemist/pseuds/BlueInkAlchemist
Summary: It's a sequel to Torn! It's a side-story to You're A Bright Light, You're A Fistfight! It's more Moicy romance and angst! Hooray~!





	I'll Be Your Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [You're a Bright Light, You're a Fistfight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800539) by [tsukara (AndThenTheresAnne)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndThenTheresAnne/pseuds/tsukara). 



She didn’t feel like she could move. She didn’t dare. If she turned her head, looked away, the woman on the monitor might disappear.

The rest of the team was gone, save for Winston, who sat in front of his monitors. His chin rested on his hands as his feet did the typing. Both of them were examining the view into the secured room that housed the prim and poised figure that had brought them crucial intelligence and a load of bad memories.

But not all of Angela’s were bad.

“I should speak with her.”

Winston looked up, his toes pausing mid-keystroke.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“It can’t hurt,” Angela said firmly. “With the pressure of the team members who worked directly with her gone, she may open up more about her motivations.”

Winston’s eyebrow rose ever so slightly.

“Doctor,” he began. He waited until she was looking at him. It took a lot of effort to tear her eyes from the screen, but the gorilla scientist’s concern was too palpable to ignore. “Doctor, this is reopening an old wound. It’s too dangerous. You could bleed out.” He paused. “Er. Metaphorically speaking.”

“I know.”

“You told me that you said good-bye in Oasis. That you parted ways. Is there more that you haven’t told me?”

“Yes. And it’s personal.” She met Winston’s gaze. “Which is why I’d appreciate disabling the cameras and audio.”

Winston huffed. “Just the audio. I can’t risk freeing her from all surveillance. You know how dangerous she can be.”

“All too well.” She shook her head. “I… please, Winston. I need to do this.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Just be careful.”

“I will.”

She left the room, made her way through the complex, and arrived in the location where their — prisoner? guest? possible turncoat? — was being held. She entered slowly. Moira didn't turn, not fully, her left arm crossed in front of her slender frame as she held up her right, turning it over to examine her long nails and the softly glowing veins beneath the pale skin.

"So here we are," she said at length. "I asked you, once, if you thought they would accept me. Your merry band of well-meaning vigilantes. I arrive offering information and aid, and this is where I am kept." She gazed around the room, heterochromatic eyes examining the walls and ceiling for what was likely the hundredth time. "Not terribly cozy."

"Does Talon know you're here?"

At that, Moira did finally make eye contact.

"No." The Irishwoman held Angela's gaze, and it was Angela who looked away first. "Do you have anything _important_ you want to ask me?"

"Why?"

"It suits me. Reaper thinks he has what it takes to make his agendas take the forefront, and Maximilien is not as clever as he believes he is. This will take them both down a peg or two, and —"

"No."

Moira stopped mid-sentence. Silence settled between them, and tension grew in the air, like the increasing pressure of an oncoming storm.

"Why did you save me?"

Moira opened her mouth, then closed it. After a moment, she smiled, lowering her hands to place them in front of her. Not behind her back, as she tended to do when addressing others in situations like this.

"Because I care more about you than I do Reaper's little 'list'."

Angela blinked. That was something she had not expected. Moira was not, in this moment, sharp edges and sharper remarks. This was a Moira she remembered from her time in Oasis, a fellow scientist and a close friend, a lover and a partner. Memories swelled inside of her mind and it took all she had to push them away and remain present.

"You're using the present tense."

"Yes."

"So... you meant what you said."

Moira's eyebrow twitched. "Why would you doubt that?"

"Because you lied to me. You lied about being with Talon."

"No, I didn't lie. I just never told you."

Angela's lip curled. "You're going to split hairs over something that important? A lie of omission _is still a lie_."

"I'll concede that point, but name any other time that I lied to you."

Angela took a step back. "I... what?"

"Go on. Surprise me. Name one other instance in which I was anything but honest and straight-forward with you."

Angela stared at Moira for a long, quiet moment. Then, closing her eyes, she sighed.

"I can't."

"That's because I always gave you the truth." Moira's tone was just a slight bit more gentle than it had been before. "I respected you too much to lie to you. Why do you think we argued so much about the experiments I was doing in Oasis? I gave you full details on my work and its ramifications. You cared a lot more about the latter."

Angela suddenly remembered standing on a rooftop in Oasis, verbally slamming Moira with the belief that she didn't care about anything — Talon, human lives, even Angela. It had struck a nerve Angela had feared Moira didn't have, and what came next...

"I can't not." Angela shook her head. "I became a doctor _because_ I care about people."

"I know. You do what I can't. You always have."

Angela looked at Moira. "What do you mean?"

"We saw in one another not just who we are, but who we could be. I've had some time to think about that. We're not like Reaper, or the rest of the idiotic do-gooders who just flew off to battle. Chancers, the lot of them. We're different. We're scientists. We want facts, and evidence. And the fact is, you and I, we are more than we are now, what we were in Oasis. We bring things out in one another. That's why we _worked_ , Angela."

Angela didn't say anything. Moira's expression softened.

"That's why I saved you. And, why I let you go."

Everything in Angela's being wanted to rush to Moira. She was _here_ , and maybe, just maybe, they could hammer out a way for her to stay.

"They're going to need you," Moira said quietly. "They may never truly admit it, and you may feel like they don't appreciate you, but they need you. They need your expertise, your abilities... they need your care."

Angela paused. "You don't think they're going to come back."

Moira smiled. "No, they will. Most of them. I think."

"Don't play games," Angela warned. "Not with me."

Moira blinked, then sighed. "I am the way I am, darling. I apologize if I hurt you, even with that minor remark."

"I should... I should go. You're right, there might be wounded."

Moira nodded. "It's best to be prepared." She looked around the room. "And it seems I'm not likely to go anywhere any time soon."

Entirely on impulse, before she could think better of it, Angela reached out and took Moira's left hand. "If what you've told us helps, if it's been true... maybe..."

Moira studied Angela's face for a long moment, and then, smiling thinly, she gave Angela's hand a soft squeeze.

"Hope. Hope for the both of us. I don't know if I'm capable of such things."

Angela nodded. "I can do that."

Moira leaned in and kissed Angela gently on the cheek. "Do. Now go."

She did, her heart pounding and her mind reeling, wishing she knew just how much she could trust the Talon scientist who still made her feel like she could fly, Valkyrie suit or no.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're not reading the fic in which this scene is set, go over to the works of @andthentheresanne and find "You're A Bright Light, You're A Fistfight" and fix that.
> 
> The title comes from the song by The Decemberists of the same name.


End file.
